A Lack of All Things Routine
by Jessica237
Summary: There's as much unpredictability in her carefully-crafted, untraceable non-routine as there is in her relationship with Deeks. One of those, Kensi takes pride in. The other simply terrifies her. KD, pre-2x18.


**Title:** A Lack of All Things Routine**  
>By:<strong> Jessica**  
>Pairing: <strong>Kensi/Deeks**  
>Rating:<strong> T**  
>Timeline:<strong> Pre 2x18, Harm's Way.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>There's as much unpredictability in her carefully-crafted, untraceable non-routine as there is in her relationship with Deeks. One of those, Kensi takes pride in. The other simply terrifies her.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>7:21 AM.<p>

Maybe a year ago, a knock on his door at this hour would have had Deeks raising an eyebrow. It's an odd time for visitors; knowing that, he also probably would have been accompanied by his trusty Beretta as he answered the door.

But that was back then.

Somehow, now a knock on his door so early in the morning makes perfect sense. Before even reaching the door, he knows exactly who it is, and why she's there – it's become her routine over the past several weeks.

That is, if it's possible for one to have a routine that there's absolutely _nothing_ routine about. It always has the same outcome, but getting there is random and chaotic and quite often requires many, many detours in the process.

It fits Kensi perfectly.

There's a wide smile playing at his lips as he opens the door to her, his stomach growling predictably as he glances to the bag she carries in one hand, and the small cardboard cupholder with two coffees in the other. "Morning, sunshine," he greets playfully, taking advantage of the fact that her hands are full to tease her.

She glares, but otherwise doesn't react since her go-to move, a quick punch to his shoulder, is currently unavailable to her. Deeks has a feeling she'll get him back later though – she always does. "Surprised you're even up," she quips, making her way past him and into his apartment, toward the small counter that separates his living room from his kitchen.

He grins, closing the door and following. "You're late today," he smirks. "Usually I'm back from my morning surf by now and all ready to head in for work."

"Mm, is that why you always smell like fish when you come in?" she retorts sweetly, setting the bag and the coffee on the counter.

"Oh you are hilarious," he deadpans, reaching for the bag only for Kensi to hold it out of his reach. "You know, if Sam knew you were coming by to see me every morning like this…" Deeks flashes her a grin, amused by the face she makes as he says _to see me_. Kensi, on the other hand, finds herself somewhat grateful for the low light of the early morning, because she's certain that the heat his smile sparks within her is momentarily quite visible in her cheeks. From what she can tell though, he's oblivious and for that she's thankful. "Well, let's just say I'd have a partner in my _grueling_ tradecraft lectures."

Quickly regaining control of herself – she refuses to linger on any of the reasons her mind can offer up for the warmth in her cheeks – Kensi smirks, busying herself with the contents of the bag. "You would not," she says, pulling out a cream-filled doughnut before sliding the bag across the counter to Deeks. "Sam would praise me on _my_ tradecraft," she boasts, watching as Deeks pulls out one of the two doughnuts she'd brought him, chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" he asks, taking a bite.

She rests casually against the counter, doughnut in hand as she faces him. "Because I am _good_," she replies confidently.

Deeks smirks, watching her take a bite of her doughnut. "You _think_ you're good," he corrects playfully. "You guys all think you're good at your little 'lack of routine' thing. Think nobody can beat you at your own game, yeah?"

"What on earth are you on about?" Kensi questions, brow furrowed in slight confusion.

He knows she's not entirely following, but that's okay. She'll see…they all will. And of that, Deeks is very confident. "Just saying that you've always got to watch your back, you know? Because that moment when you feel completely awesome with your mixed up routine, like there's no way that anybody could stake you out…that's the moment that somebody sneaks up behind you and, I don't know, slips a little something in your bag."

She's unsure where that scenario came from, but Kensi doesn't pursue it, assuming it's an analogy for what had happened to him – don't mix up your routines, make yourself an easy target. It makes sense, considering that he hasn't been very keen on discussing his shooting with anyone. Not that she can blame him, seeing as she'd deflected his inquiries – his rather frequent inquiries, she thinks with annoyance; _damn_ him for seeing right through her – about a past shooting of her own.

Little by little she's begun letting him in, somewhat unconsciously, if she's completely honest with herself. Even so, she's not ready to go down that road with him yet. And it's more than simply revealing that, yes, she _has_ been shot; it would mean revealing a moment of weakness to him. A moment she'd let her guard down; a mistake she'd made. And even though she'd been younger and newer to the job, that doesn't make it acceptable.

It was still a mistake.

Kensi Blye doesn't make mistakes.

And she certainly doesn't admit to making them.

Forcing the uncomfortable reminders from her head, Kensi seamlessly shifts back into the present, tilting her head and pasting a playful smile upon her lips. "Just because I've been stopping by with doughnuts and coffee a few times a week doesn't mean I'm following a traceable routine," she defends, finishing off her doughnut. Deeks doesn't interject; instead, he can't help but watch as she innocently – and rather _torturously_ slowly - licks the last of the frosting from her fingers.

"You see," she continues, seemingly unaware of his gaze on her – she's not, though, not by a long shot. She feels that just as profoundly as she feels the shiver that rushes down her spine. It's a good thing, she thinks, that she's grown quite adept at ignoring anything like that over the years. "The good thing about LA is that there are tons of different streets, and tons of different doughnut shops. I mix up my route and my shop every single day. Plus," as she continues, she counts on her fingers for emphasis, "I never actually park in the parking lot here. Always leave my car down the street or around the block somewhere, and walk the rest of the way here." She grins. "_And_ I always make sure that I'm never at your door at the same time twice."

Deeks snorts. "Yeah, I figured that out that morning you woke me up at a quarter past five," he quips, infusing his words with a bit of false annoyance. It's clear to both of them though that he's no more annoyed about that now than he was when it actually happened. And truly, he wasn't. He'd never admit it to her face because she's certain she'd find some way to hold it over his head – she's diabolical like that – but he knows he could never really be annoyed to find her at his door, whether it's high noon or midnight or any of the hours in between."

Kensi shrugs innocently; the sparkle in her eyes, though, is anything but. "It was a beautiful day! No reason for you to sleep it all away."

"It was _dark_." He lifts a hand, briefly laying it over his chest. "_And_ I got shot, remember? I was supposed to be resting. You know, recovery." As soon as the word leaves his mouth, it's as though he suddenly remembers just who he's talking to. "Then again, you probably don't know that word."

"I didn't see you turn the doughnuts down," she retorts.

"Couldn't let you eat them all by yourself – we've talked about that," Deeks shoots back effortlessly. "Otherwise it won't be the _bagginess_ of your teeny tiny jeans that you're complaining about."

Other than a rather murderous glare that actually has Deeks a tiny bit frightened, Kensi mostly ignores that. "As far as my _routine_ goes, if you'd bother to notice instead of being your usual clueless self," She smirks, letting him know she's at least half-teasing, "you'd see that I never even get the same _kind_ of doughnuts. Sometimes I get cream-filled, sometimes they have sprinkles, sometimes it's something else. But you're too busy _inhaling_ them to notice something like that."

Deeks is quick to reply. "Mm, but as I, as you so classily say –" Kensi throws another glare his way – "_inhale_ them, I notice something else." He gives a dangerous smirk. "Something that _is_ routine with you."

Kensi shakes her head. "No. Not possible. I take _every _precaution –"

"Too bad you don't take any precautions while driving."

That catches her off-guard. It's not odd for him to mock her driving, but it's rather out of place here. "What?"

He snickers. "You always bring me two doughnuts, but I only ever see _you_ eat one. And I know there's something wrong with that." He pauses, tilting his head thoughtfully. "You know, you always hear about the dangers of texting while driving, but what about scarfing down a messy, sticky doughnut while driving?"

"What are you talking about?" She tries to be indignant, but her voice has that telltale lilt to it, the one that tells Deeks that he's definitely caught her.

And the sparkle in his eyes lets her know that she's got no way out of this one. "I suspect you always get four doughnuts. And I bet you _always_ eat one in the car on the way over here, yeah?"

"You don't know that," she replies just a bit too quickly.

"Trust me, I do." Pausing briefly, he takes a quick sip of his coffee. "The, uh, chocolate frosting that's been just above your lip since you came in the door? Dead giveaway."

"There's no frosting on my lip," she protests even as she lifts a hand to her mouth to check.

Deeks chuckles. "No. There's not," he says with a grin, watching as she brushes a finger over her lip. "But you _did_ just prove me right."

She glares playfully. "Fine. See if I ever buy you doughnuts again."

"I'll steal one of yours."

"Uh-huh. We'll see." Kensi can't help but smile; this playful back-and-forth, push-and-pull, while irritating at times, is one of the things she loves most about what they have. It's easy, and he challenges her to stay on her toes around him. There's no time to relax because when she allows herself to do that, that's the moment he'll best her at something. And, well, that's just not an option.

Eager to get off the subject of her sweet tooth, she lets her eyes linger upon him for a moment as she takes a sip of her own coffee. "So, you think you're ready to come back to work?" she asks. She knows he'd never let her down if she admitted, but _God_, how she's missed him. His smile, his good-natured teasing, just his general presence, really. It strikes her as just a bit ridiculous that she should miss him so incredibly much at work when she's made an effort to see him almost every day…but she does.

He chuckles lightly, resting casually against the counter. "I don't know…but I do know that I'll go crazy if I have to stay home much longer."

Kensi hums sympathetically. "Yeah. Must be hard having to lounge around all day, having to decide whether to spend your time sleeping or watching daytime tv."

"Better than your late night infomercials. Please tell me you have never actually _bought_ anything from those."

"That is _much_ less shameful than your little talk show addiction," she shoots back. "I bet you've set up your DVR to record them now while you're at work."

"At least I don't have an entire season of reality tv on mine, Miss Jersey Shore."

"Keep that up and you'll be recovering from another bullet wound," she retorts, hands on her hips. "And Wonder Woman doesn't carry a .22, remember?"

"Wonder Woman probably also doesn't watch American Idol."

Kensi scowls. "Guilty pleasure, okay?" she says defensively, no useful retorts on her tongue. Clearing her throat, she then goes for an all-too-obvious attempt at changing the subject. She's done with discussing her taste in tv…which, okay, is a bit questionable. But after a long day, it's nice not to have to think too much. Reality tv – fake or not – does that; dramas, not so much. "So...I'm that you haven't even asked what you've missed while you were gone."

Deeks merely shrugs. "I figured if there was anything interesting, you'd tell me. Plus…I was supposed to be on leave anyway. Means time _away_ from work."

"I'm well aware of what it means," Kensi quips. "You're not even curious, though?"

"Not really, no," Deeks replies airily. "Not all of us have to be completely _in_ to work even when we're off." He pauses, tilting his head. "Some of us actually _take_ days off."

Kensi scoffs. "I take days off," she retorts. "Just not –"

"Just not because you're sick or hurt, because you're _never_ sick or hurt," he finishes for her. "And even if you were forced to take time off, you'd be making sure you stayed caught up at home." She opens her mouth to protest, but Deeks cuts her off. "I know you. I know how you are. A little bullet wound isn't going to stop you from being the best, is it?"

"That's not –"

"Some of us, though, are a little more sane than that. Some of us actually use recovery time to, you know, _rest_." He smirks.

"Fine," Kensi sighs, rolling her eyes slightly. "But let's just say you missed a few really good cases. Juicy ones."

"And yet, I'm pretty sure you guys did just fine on your own, yeah?" he says, and though his voice is light, he's not meeting her eyes. Kensi furrows her brow, unsure of what he's getting at until the next words leave his mouth; once they do, it's clear that it's something that's been at the back of his mind for the duration of his time away from the team. And really, she can't say she blames him - if she were forced to take that much time off, she knows she'd have the occasional worry of whether or not she'd be somehow replaced; whether or not the team found a way to do without her. It's a legitimate concern. "You guys got a few weeks to go back to the Sam-Callen-Kensi dream team, right?"

"Is _that_ why you haven't bothered to ask what you've missed? Really?" She knows he still sometimes feels as though he's yet to find his place within their team. She knows he still feels like the outsider; she knows it's going to take time before he really, truly sees otherwise. He doesn't reply, but that in itself is answer enough. Kensi shakes her head, her dark eyes nothing but serious as she gazes at him. "Come on, Deeks. Don't do that."

"What?"

"You know what." Kensi sighs heavily. "Don't act like you're not a part of the team, because you are. I mean, you're annoying as hell sometimes," she says bluntly, and to anyone else, the words might have been an insult; Deeks, however, merely smirks. "You drive me completely up the wall. Sometimes you absolutely infuriate me. But I also can't imagine the team without you anymore, and I'm sure Callen and Sam think the same."

For a long moment, Deeks is quiet. His silence allows her words to hang heavily in the air between them, and if they'd felt mildly foreign passing through her lips just moments before, that's nothing compared to how they feel now as they reverberate in her ears. They're uncharacteristically sentimental for her, for _them_. At the same time, though, they're undeniably true. And while she and Callen and Sam make a good team on their own, there's no denying that Deeks just adds something else; something they've been missing for quite some time. It's something they hadn't _known _they were missing, but now that they do know it, being forced to carry on without it for the past several weeks has proven a difficult challenge.

Just as Kensi's thinking maybe she should say something else, she catches the grin that suddenly stretches across his lips. "It was inevitable," he says quietly.

"What?"

His grin widens. "I _knew_ you'd get attached to me!"

Feeling the tension break, Kensi can't help but laugh. "Way to ruin the sentiment," she retorts, shoving playfully at his shoulder.

His grin only brightens, as does the triumphant glee in his blue eyes. "Way to not deny it," he shoots back, waving a dismissive hand as Kensi opens her mouth to defend herself. "Nope. Too late. You love me."

Kensi laughs. "I tolerate you. _Big_ difference."

He's got the upper hand, though. "Nope – you admitted that you can't live without me."

On one hand, she's kind of annoyed that he's taken her serious admission and made it humorous, teasing her by twisting her words and working them around to his advantage. On the other hand…well, she can't be _truly_ annoyed because it's Deeks. It's what he does. And she'd be lying if she said she wasn't a bit grateful for it – there are few things worse than the quiet heaviness that fills the room after an emotion-filled confession, even if it _is_ a rather small confession, a quiet _I missed you_.

Not the words she'd said, but certainly the words she'd meant.

Feeling slightly exposed to him, she makes her way fully into his kitchen, taking a moment to rinse her hands at the sink. She's not sure what she was expecting the first time she came here, but it wasn't what she'd found. His place is the polar opposite of hers. Where she's a bit of a messy packrat, the kind who rarely throws anything away, the impression she'd gotten the first time in Deeks' apartment was that he only tended to keep what was necessary. There's a bareness to his place; aside from the comfortableness of his couch (heat fills her cheeks at that; she's not really sure she should know that, but she does), there's not a lot about his place that feels very _lived-in_.

Hands dry, Kensi wanders kind of aimlessly through his kitchen, aware the entire time of his eyes upon her. She keeps her head down, though, her gaze focused on her fingers as they trace over the length of his countertop. Deeks doesn't say anything; he can tell there's something on her mind, though. It's not until he's polished off his second doughnut – this one a simple yet tasty glaze-coated cream-filled pastry – that she turns to him, her eyes curious as they land upon him. "Are you…worried at all about coming back?" she asks finally, her voice quiet.

Deeks blinks. "Worried? Why would I be worried?"

Kensi shakes her head then, for a brief moment considering letting the subject drop with that. Resting her back against the counter, she crosses her arms, realizing only too late that the action is defensive. Even though she's the one who started this conversation, there's still that part of her that's reluctant for him to see that she's bothered. She's reluctant for him to see what's really on her mind. Most of all, she's reluctant for him to see what she's reluctant to see herself – that she's genuinely concerned for him. That he's on her mind often enough _for_ her to be genuinely concerned for him.

Shrugging, Kensi discreetly drops her arms to her sides, despite wishing she'd left them crossed over her chest. "It's just a lot to come back from. Being shot, I mean," she says finally, not meeting his eyes.

She's good; he has to admit. But not even Kensi can hide the sudden unease that settles over her. Deeks thinks he's gotten his answer, the answer to the question he'd asked her weeks ago while he'd still been in the hospital. She hadn't hidden it well then either, but now…now it's written all over her face. She _has_ been shot, and from what little bit he can gather, Deeks is certain that it had to have been a much more serious wound than what he'd received.

He's left with two choices – pursue the matter, or let it drop. The curiosity is biting furiously at him; Kensi's an enigma, a nearly impossible puzzle to figure out, and any piece of that puzzle that Deeks can manage to put together is something he sees as a bit of a triumph. Learning Kensi, weakening her walls, getting her to share those little hidden pieces of herself with him, whether they're from the distant past or nearer to the present…it's something he's made almost a personal mission out of.

If he's honest with himself, Deeks has been drawn to her since the very first moment they met. It's still not something he can explain – well, actually, it is. It's no secret that she's gorgeous. She's beautiful, she's flirty, she's fun to be with; at the same time, she's strong and tough and could kick his ass most any day of the week. But it's more than all of that, he knows. He's attracted to her, but it goes deeper than just the physical aspect of it.

He can pinpoint exactly the day when he first realized she was hot – he was carrying a license that identified him as Jason Wyler that day. What he can't figure out is when that obvious physical attraction crossed the line into something deeper, something that, if he's not careful, will manifest itself as genuine feelings for her before he's even aware of what's happening.

Then again, as he stands and watches her now, he thinks it might be a bit too late for him.

And maybe it's that that has him uncharacteristically going for the latter of the two choices – he decides to let the matter drop, rather than pursue it further, because there's a not-so-small part of him that can't stand the thought of her feeling so uncomfortable in the middle of his apartment. So he takes a step toward her, weighing her words again in his head – hidden meaning or not, it _is_ a lot to come back from, a shooting. "You know," he begins finally, his eyes darting briefly to the clock on the wall before settling back upon her, "I've been a cop for awhile. You know my thing is the undercover work – meaning it's never been just traffic stops and simple arrests for me. I've seen plenty of guys, partners even, go down in the line of duty. I've seen them recover, and then come back all confident, like they had never even spent a single day away." He pauses for a moment, and Kensi's mildly taken-aback by the seriousness that surrounds him – it's uncharacteristic, something she's not used to. "I've seen guys get out in the middle of a firefight, out where it matters most, and freeze up."

Kensi crosses her arms and lets out a breath, one she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It's reality; she knows that, but that doesn't mean it's anything she wants to think about, especially as far as her partner is concerned. "Are you…worried about that?" she asks cautiously, knowing she's treading on shaky ground – this isn't the kind of conversation that comes easily to either of them.

She expects him to break the tension with an effortless smirk and a humorous quip; she expects him to playfully call her out on her doubting his confidence. Furthermore, she _expects_ that confidence, she expects that humor because that's who Deeks is…on the surface, anyway. Kensi knows there's a lot hidden beneath, but that's exactly what it is – hidden.

It takes her by surprise, those rare moments that he lets her see beyond the confidence and the humor.

And it's in those rare moments that she realizes that, whether or not she chooses to see it, he's more like her than she ever would have imagined six months ago.

For a long moment, Deeks is silent, though the intensity in his blue eyes speaks volumes louder than any words ever could. It's an intensity that Kensi can't make herself turn away from, the kind that grips her from somewhere deep within and slowly envelopes every part of her; the kind that starts an undeniable heat stirring both within her and between them, an undeniable heat from which she can't escape. When finally he speaks, his words are quiet as he answers her question with a question of his own. "Do you have my back?"

For the first time, Kensi finds herself overly aware of just how much of the distance between them has completely dissipated. It's utterly ridiculous, she tries to tell herself – she's been this close to him before with no difficulty, been this close to him without the fear of her heart beating straight out of her chest. There's no reason that this time should be any different…but different is exactly what it is. Something has changed, and she can feel it in the air that surrounds them. It's a dangerous change on so many levels; despite knowing this, Kensi still can't break her gaze away from his. "Of course I do," she says slowly. It's an answer to a question he shouldn't have to ask, especially given how many times he's been there to back her up. "You know that."

At that, Deeks smiles. There's a bit of a puzzled look in her eyes, one that leaves him unsure whether or not he's managed to convey the true depth behind his words – he's never really been the greatest at translating emotions into words and really, it's something he usually tries to avoid.

And that brings him back to the core of this conversation. Neither of them can deny it; the job they do has its perils and they aren't always able to avoid danger. In fact – and this has long since stopped being amusing to him – danger seems to seek both him and Kensi out…well, particularly Kensi. Or maybe she seeks _it_ out, possibly just to get under his skin…it certainly works, if that's the case.

Either way, it's unpredictable. And in their line of work, firefights are much too common. Deeks can't say what will happen the first time he finds himself caught in one again – will he flash back to the convenience store and freeze? Hesitate a moment too long? He's confident enough to think not, but there are simply too many variables out in the field. Too many variables, and not enough time to stop and consider them all.

He has no way of knowing what will happen until it's happening – that's just the nature of the job, sometimes.

He can, however, say for certain that he trusts Kensi to have his back, no matter what. Couldn't say it eight months ago, maybe not even as near to the present as six months back, but now…it's unquestionable.

Should the need arise, Deeks trusts her enough to place his life in her hands.

And that's something he's never _truly_ been able to say about anyone else before.

Clearing his throat, he finally breaks eye contact with her and turns his gaze downward. "Then I'm not worried," he says, a simple answer to what had been a simple question back in the beginning, before his mind had twisted it inside out and upside down. He smiles then, tacking a simple endearment onto the end – simple to anyone else, but one that speaks volumes between the two of them. "Partner."

Kensi smiles softly. They've come a long way, truly, and she can't deny the warmth that blooms within her at his words. In the beginning, he didn't trust her enough to even touch his gun, let alone share the story behind his choice in weapon – though, if she's honest, she didn't trust him too much back then either. It's a huge jump to go from that all the way to trusting someone with your life in a relatively short amount of time…and one she's surprised to discover she's made along with him.

Almost unconsciously, she reaches out to him, touching her knuckles just briefly to his wrist. "Speaking of," she begins quietly. "In the craziness with the doctors and nurses all yelling at you in the aftermath, I, uh, never really got to thank you for what you did that day at the hospital."

Suddenly unable to meet his eyes, she turns her head and gazes out into the living room, focusing rather intently on the framed picture adorning the far wall, the one she'd playfully mocked on that very first morning she'd come by to see him. Kensi had never really assumed he was the type to hang fine art around his apartment, and he'd given her the impression very early on that his walls certainly wouldn't be filled with photographs of family, but still…those poker-playing dogs? Really?

Then again, on second thought, it's so ridiculously Deeks that Kensi can't help but smirk.

Forcing her eyes back to Deeks, she pushes the momentary distraction from her head. "It was a, uh, good thing that you were there."

He chuckles quietly, lifting his shoulders in a slight, almost nonchalant half-shrug. She doesn't have to clarify for him to know exactly what she means. "You were doing just fine on your own," he says, even though they both know that's not entirely the case. In the physical battle, she'd dominated. But when Vakar had emerged from the van and drawn a gun on her, she'd been momentarily caught off-guard. Not for long, but no matter how many times she tells herself that, the reality remains the same. She wouldn't have had time to defend herself against Vakar before finding herself with a bullet wound of her own.

"I was," she agrees with a slight smile. "But you made things easier for me."

At that, a quiet laugh slips past Deeks' lips. "Never thought I'd _ever_ hear you say that."

"Never thought I'd say it!" They share a quiet chuckle before Kensi finishes, serious once more. "I mean it, though. Thanks."

Deeks shrugs it off as though it's not a big deal. And really, from where he's standing, it's not. It _is_, but then again, it isn't, because he really can't imagine doing anything differently. It's who he is; it's what he's supposed to do. It's what he wants to do – be there for her, no matter how vehemently she might protest that she doesn't need that. "We're partners," he says. "It's what we do – look out for each other."

"Yeah…"

He makes it sound so simple when in reality, it's been anything but. It might be who he is, but it's not who Kensi is. She's used to playing one side of the partner game, the side that looks out for the other. It's been an entirely new thing to be the one that's needed to be looked out for, and she can't help but hate herself a bit for letting that happen so often in such a short amount of time. Kensi Blye is _not_ supposed to need someone to save her. She's had too many partners try to play that game with her in the past, whether because she's small or because she's the only female member of the team or because they just needed to feel the surge of manly pride that comes from saving the so-called damsel-in-distress – which she is firmly and vehemently _not_.

That partly influenced her annoyance at having Deeks somewhat unceremoniously shoved at her and given the title of her new partner. It also made no sense to her, because she and Callen and Sam made a great team, and when she couldn't be part of that for whatever reason, Kensi was fantastic on her own. And then there's the fact that, right from the beginning, Deeks has been pushier than anyone should ever be, at least as far as Kensi was concerned. It rubbed her the wrong way; he got under her skin and at times infuriated her, and Kensi just _knew_ it was never going to work between them. He wasn't even an agent, for goodness' sake.

She feels guilty now, because she'd considered going to Hetty numerous times with these very reasons. There was a time in the beginning where she would have given _anything_ for Hetty to find her a new partner, or let her go back to not having one at all.

And yet, through it all, Deeks has proven herself to her. She's warmed up to him perhaps more quickly than she's ever warmed to anyone else. It's kind of a slap in the face now to know that, if she hadn't been forced to, she probably would have never given him the chance.

"Kens?"

The tenderness in the simple nickname as his voice wraps around it nearly does her in – she may be tough as nails, but she does have the rare weakness here and there. Apparently, one of them is _that_, and of course Kensi kind of hates herself for it. It's dangerous, because the power of that voice and those eyes, when combined, is strong enough to have her wanting to let him in just a little bit. And _that_ is just not acceptable because Kensi Blye is not the type of woman who melts under a sweet voice and a tender gaze.

She thinks there's really just been one man who has ever had that power over her.

And look how well _that_ ended.

Swallowing hard, she chances a glance at him and immediately finds herself falling headfirst into that enticing ocean in his eyes. Despite the maddening lack of control she has over that, when she speaks, Kensi's voice is unwavering, even if quiet. "I've been thinking…I know I didn't give you much of a chance in the beginning…" Briefly she closes her eyes, and it's the only outward indication of the battle being waged within her – a battle between the side of her that wants to meet Deeks on a deeper emotional level, and the side of her that wants to build more walls between them, as strong and tall and utterly impenetrable as possible. It's the first time she's forced to say that she's not sure which side will win.

Letting her eyes flutter open again, she continues. "I didn't want a new partner. I was convinced I didn't need one. I…kind of figured that you would just get in the way, that you would just mess things up. We're all _agents_; I couldn't see what a cop could possibly add to what we already had."

There's a quip or two that Deeks could make there in an effort to lighten the moment, because that's what he does. But at the same time, he knows that any kind of admission of anything from Kensi is huge; he knows it's something that doesn't happen often, if ever. So while he's kind of stung by the verbal proof of just how…_unwanted_ he was in the beginning, he stays silent and lets her speak, knowing that if it wasn't something she truly _needed_ in the air between them, he would never be hearing any of it.

"It took me awhile," she continues, "but eventually I realized that Hetty…well, she always has her reasons, and those reasons are never wrong. You bring a lot to the table, Deeks. And I'd be lying if I said I – if I said _we_ didn't miss that a hell of a lot while you were gone."

In the silence that follows, the full weight of her words crashes into her and it takes every bit of her resolve to keep from squirming in front of him. It's a lot for her to admit that she's grateful he's there, that the team needs him…that_ she_ needs him. She bites her lip, then immediately stops as soon as she realizes she's doing it and instead gives a shrug and takes the matter of trying to lighten the moment into her own hands. "You know I've lost a fair few partners," she says. "If you ever try to become the next one again, I swear I'll kill you myself."

He smirks, and Kensi lets out a breath, feeling at least a tiny bit of the tension fade. "No worries, Fern," he teases. "What was that you told me in the hospital? Something about, uh, me not getting rid of you that easily?" He flashes her a full grin then, and _damn it_ if Kensi doesn't feel that obnoxious flutter in her stomach. "Works both ways, Princess. You are stuck with me…stuck like glue."

"Lucky me," she deadpans, though the grin on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes shows that there's no real sarcasm behind the words at all. "And by the way, that's terrible. Don't you have anything original?"

He takes a step closer to her – she thinks vaguely that really, that shouldn't be possible, not considering just how close to her he already is. When he replies, his words are teasing but his voice is low, low enough that it's almost a gravelly whisper that strikes her right in the center of her being. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of it first."

"I wouldn't admit it if it were true."

"Which part?"

Kensi blinks. "What?"

He merely gives her that maddening grin. "That you're jealous or that you're just not clever?"

She ignores the first part; the latter, though, causes a burst of indignance to surge within her. "I'm clever," she scoffs.

"Uh-huh," he breathes, and if she'd thought the tension between them had broken even just a bit, Deeks sparks it up yet again with a simple action that – _damn it! _– she should be strong enough to resist. She's not really sure what gives him the audacity to think this is okay…but it's not as if anything about her is saying otherwise. Lifting his hand, he brushes his fingertips along her arm, just barely ghosting over her skin. That touch, just that simple, barely-there touch, is almost enough to break her. It's almost enough for her to give in to the sudden flood of…she refuses to name whatever this is that's currently coursing through her veins. She's not entirely sure how, but she attributes it to sheer force and strength of will that she's able to keep from shivering, from _whimpering_.

All from just a simple touch.

It's not really that simple, though. They've touched numerous times before, and she has to admit, the concept of personal space when it comes to the two of them is a bit lacking, but there's something different about this. There's something just…_intimate_ about the subtle caress of his fingertips on her skin, and at first she thinks he's playing with her, trying to rile her up and press her buttons like he always does, because that is the very essence of Marty Deeks. But when she looks up into his eyes again, that's not what she sees. What she sees is a man who is suddenly just as swept into this whirlpool of a moment as she is, swept in with no hope of getting out. He flicks his tongue over his lips, and Kensi can't help but find herself slightly mesmerized by the motion. It takes her a moment to comprehend his words because they apply to the moment as well as the already nearly-forgotten conversation. "That's why I get you out of your element…every single time."

Kensi should argue that; she really, really should. She _is_ clever; she's quick and witty and always has a perfect comeback to his playful jabs – it's part of what makes them mesh so well. She _really_ should argue that, because she's been the one to get _him_ out of his element a few times. But she simply can't find her voice. The words just won't come, and normally she'd be mentally berating herself for giving him such an opening to tease her further – because technically, he _has_ left her speechless – but she can't even find the power to do that. It's as if he's shut her mind down, and she's falling farther and farther into his trap with every passing second.

It's a little too late when Kensi finally realizes what they're doing here, what they've been doing on and off for a majority of the past year – they're playing with fire. And it's not just any fire; no, the fire they keep fueling is one that's far too dangerous to be playing with so recklessly; it's one with the potential to scorch them both over and over again…because it's a fire that burns _between_ the two of them. Denial does nothing to extinguish it; nor, apparently, do any other tactics. And they're so physically close right now that Kensi can feel the heat of his body; she swears she can feel the sparks between them, and that alone has her heart quickening in her chest.

This is the worst realization she can have in this moment, because not only is she now, as Deeks had put it, out of her element, but she's also now secretly terrified.

She's terrified because part of the realization is realizing that she has no control over this.

If she did, she'd have stopped it months ago.

But Kensi never even saw it coming.

Not when she was standing a few feet in front of him, separated by lasers that could end both of their lives; not when she was flying through the air with him with an explosion at their backs, his arms holding her tightly to him; not when she was gazing down at him just a few seconds later, unable to break eye contact with the man who had just, as she'd trusted him to, _gotten her back_.

Not even when she was standing in the bullpen that morning all those weeks ago, hearing the news from Hetty. Not even when she was standing in the hospital, his badge and watch in hand and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Not even when, mindless to his own injuries, he'd put a bullet into the man who'd ordered the hit on her, yet again coming to her rescue.

Not even through all the times over the past several weeks that she's come by his place with doughnuts and stayed just a little longer than was actually necessary. Not even when it became less about checking on him...and more about _seeing_ him.

Through all of that, she thinks she should have seen something…something she could have stopped.

It terrifies her that she could be so blind.

It terrifies her even more that she could be so blind to her own _feelings_, because, in order to have those, she had to let her walls crumble enough for him to worm his way into her heart.

And she'd _never_ given the okay for that.

Things Kensi Blye doesn't give the okay for…well, they simply don't happen.

Taking a deep breath – and forcibly ignoring the dizziness that the scent of his cologne, the scent of _him_ draws over her – she nods to herself, trying ever desperately to reclaim the control she's momentarily lost. "I should…go," she says quietly, her voice little more than a whisper. And, she realizes with silent mortification, it's a bit of a shaky one at that. Swallowing hard, she struggles for a moment, knowing that, as close as he is to her, every little motion is right there on display for him. As it is, she'd be surprised if he couldn't hear the pounding of her heart against her chest – it's all but deafening to her.

She can't really deny it any longer. There's something about his quiet voice, his touch, and the realization that he'd been so close to slipping away from her for good that makes the attraction bloom inside of her. Attraction, desire, lust for the forbidden – all of which is utterly ridiculous because he's her _partner_ for goodness' sake.

Her partner that – _oh dear God –_ she wants.

She nearly gasps then as she realizes that the hand that had been tracing tantalizingly along her arm has settled almost instinctively at her hip. Kensi doesn't know if he realizes it, but _she_ certainly does. Even the layer of material between his palm and her hip doesn't impede the fire that seems to burn her skin beneath his touch. She murmurs his name; it's basically the only thing she can muster.

He doesn't chuckle the way he usually does when he realizes he's gotten the upper hand on her. Instead, he merely leans in – _oh God_ – and Kensi finds herself holding her breath, no idea what could possibly be about to transpire. "You could stay a little longer," he says, his voice just as soft as hers was.

She doesn't like this. She doesn't like it because she likes it _too_ _much_. Even with her mind a clouded mess of static and Deeks, she tries to tell herself that she's not reacting like this to him. She tells herself that it's simply the newfound closeness they've developed in the wake of his shooting. It's just an anomaly in an unexpected development, she thinks. Before, they rarely saw each other outside of work; now, over the weeks spanning his recovery leave, it's somehow become routine for her to stop by with coffee and doughnuts a few mornings of the week. It's a new frontier for them…so of course there would be moments she never saw coming – it's just the nature of their growing partnership.

Or so she tells herself. It's hard to believe that, though, when that little voice in her head reminds her just how…_important_ these mornings have become for her. Somehow, she's allowed herself to get to the point where seeing Deeks decides whether or not she's going to have a good day. The days that she skips this, for the sake of maintaining a non-routine, well, they're usually not the best days.

It's almost as if being with him, even if just for a few minutes before work in the mornings, centers her. It's a kind of peace that she hasn't known in quite some time.

She wonders if he knows what he's doing to her.

She wonders if he realizes just what sort of messy emotional storm he's conjured up within her.

And then she's able to wonder nothing else as he takes it a step further, briefly, _just_ briefly touching his forehead to hers. Somehow, that simple action feels even more intimate than his palm at her hip, and she just knows he felt her tremble. "You could ride in with me," he continues. "You know, make sure I don't, ah, screw up on my first day back to work? Accidentally take a road I've taken too many times before?"

Kensi barely hears him over the pounding of her heart and the electricity surging through her body. "I – I think you'll be fine…" she says distractedly. In some corner of her mind, she knows she should snap out of this sudden delirium; knows she should be strong enough to resist the hypnotic charm of his ocean blue eyes.

She knows she should force her feet to move; knows she should step back before she has the chance to be her usual impulsive self, before she has the chance to do something she'll regret.

There are a lot of things she knows, unquestionably.

But God, there's only one thing that Kensi wants.

She wants to kiss him.

Her _partner_, her irritating, infuriating, recently injured partner. Her disheveled-haired, ocean-eyed partner, the one she's quickly come to realize has taken on a significant role in her life. She wants to kiss him, wants to bury her fingers in his blonde hair, wants his lips, his tongue battling hers for dominance. She wants his arms around her, pulling her against him; his hands on her, touching and teasing; his mouth on hers, tasting and melding and leaving her breathless with kisses that never seem to cease; his body against hers, that muscled, masculine heat sparking the flame that burns her from the inside out and she'll never, _ever_ admit that it's true, but she thinks she's probably wanted that, wanted _him_, for quite some time now.

Maybe even since the very beginning.

As for now, well…she's never been more thankful that he can't see inside her mind.

Again she swallows hard, trying so desperately to eradicate the sultry images infiltrating her every thought; she's never more grateful than now that he can't read her mind. "Deeks…" she breathes, drawing her tongue over suddenly parched lips. She's over-aware of the way Deeks' eyes flicker toward the motion. "I can't, Deeks…"

Neither of them are entirely sure what she really means.

She tries again, wishing she could summon something a little stronger than a near-breathless whisper, because she _knows_ it makes her sound weak. "I, uh, I should really go," she repeats, but still she can't seem to move her feet. "If I'm…if I'm going to have time for my workout before work, you know."

_It's not like you need it_. The words flicker through his mind, coupled with a discreet yet appreciative glance over her body. They remain unspoken, though – he's certain they would have come out playful, but in this moment…Deeks thinks they're probably best left unsaid, no matter how true they are.

Though it kills him to do it, he nods slowly and lets his hand finally drop from her hip as he steps back from her. Clearing his throat, he watches as she crosses her arms and bites her lip, glancing to the side before finally turning her gaze back to him. "Yeah, I just remembered that I, uh, have somewhere I need to be. Got an appointment I need to keep."

Ignoring the chill that his sudden retreat from her personal space has cast over her, Kensi looks at him curiously, discreetly struggling to calm her still-racing heart. "An appointment? What kind of appointment? I thought you were cleared to come back."

He grins, and Kensi's for a moment jealous that he seems to have recovered from what just happened – or what _didn't_ happen – so quickly. "Not that kind of appointment."

Deeks isn't offering up any details – doesn't he know that's the kind of thing that drives Kensi insane? One look at the devilish glimmer in his eyes suggests that he knows _exactly _what he's doing to her. "Then what?"

He shrugs, then wanders leisurely into the living room and collects his phone from the coffee table. With it in hand, he glances down at it with a smirk before answering with a wink. "Oh. You'll see, Princess. You'll see."

-:-

Later that morning, calmed by her workout and the necessary alone time, Kensi strides into the bullpen just as Sam is entering through the front door. He's late, as Callen makes repeatedly clear to all of them. And this is what Kensi loves about this team – the teasing, the joking, the constant playing around…it's all in good fun.

Her smile at Callen's teasing fades quite abruptly when Sam finally reveals why exactly he was late.

"I was checking on Deeks, okay?"

To be honest, it nearly brings her heart to a standstill. "Checking?" she repeats somewhat guardedly, and as Sam continues, she feels something similar to apprehension spark within her. It has Kensi momentarily on edge, especially when he clarifies that he was, in fact, waiting at Deeks' apartment.

Which means that, despite her own attempts to make everything as non-routine as possible, Sam could have spotted her there too.

Which means Callen would know too.

Which basically means that they would _never_ let her live it down. Her mind flashes back to the case from a year ago, when Deeks first came onto their radar as Jason Wyler. She'd thought the snarky comments about her fixation on the case – the _case_, not Wyler – would _never_ cease. Kensi can only imagine how magnified they would be now – they tease her enough about her love life; they'd have an absolute field day if they thought she had feelings for Deeks.

Which she doesn't.

She _doesn't_.

_No._

Before she can find time to be frustrated with her inability to effectively lie to herself, Kensi forces herself back into the conversation just so Callen and Sam can't find something about her relative silence while they're discussing Deeks' whereabouts to use against her. "Better call him, then," she says smoothly, quickly pulling up the speed-dial list on her phone.

She thinks she sees Sam and Callen share a look of amusement, but firmly she ignores it and brings the phone to her ear.

For a moment, there's silence as the call connects.

And then, an unmistakable ring echoes through the bullpen, originating from Sam's bag.

Kensi smiles; suddenly, Deeks' comments about having an appointment to keep, as well as the playful comment he'd made earlier about slipping something into someone's bag while they were totally oblivious, completely make sense. Her smile evolves into a broad grin when Deeks confidently strolls in and takes his phone from Sam's hands with a knowing smile and a triumphant "that'd be for me."

The conversation that follows is effortless; it's playful and mildly flirty, almost as if what had happened between them just a few hours before hadn't actually happened. She knows they both know better than that, though. Still, she can't erase the smile from her face; with Deeks back, it's as if the puzzle that is their little team is complete again. It's complete again, and that's how Kensi wants it to remain.

She catches his eye just as Eric summons them upstairs – there's nothing simple about the way their gazes connect. Nothing simple, nor, really, anything innocent either. In his blue eyes – and she's certain in her own dark ones – there's the undeniable flicker of the electricity fueling their connection, a flicker that almost sparked into a full-on lightning storm that morning. Kensi feels it; she knows he feels it too. She simply smiles at him and welcomes him back, knowing that more than just a simple greeting is conveyed in her words.

What it means for them as partners, she can't say for certain.

For now, she just knows that it feels damn good to have him back.

Still feels good even when he shatters her non-routine the very next day by showing up at _her_ door with doughnuts and coffee.

…At the absolutely _ungodly_ time of 4:16 AM.


End file.
